


A Series of Firsts

by HaroThar



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink, Top Shiro (Voltron), Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fic Exchange, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaroThar/pseuds/HaroThar
Summary: The first Valentine's Day Shiro and Keith have together. But by what criteria can they call a Valentine's Day the "first"?
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52
Collections: Sheithlentines 2020





	1. Linearly

The first Valentine’s Day, in a linear fashion, happened when Keith was fifteen and Shiro had not yet learned there was no point in complaining about students failing to use the spellcheck feature programmed into any and all of their word processors. 

“Think fast!” Keith heard Shiro call, and got his hand up just in time to catch the little rectangle making a beeline for his face.

“Candy hearts?” he asked with a snort. These things hadn’t been relevant since elementary school, when everyone had to pass out candies and little paper cards to everybody else. They hadn’t changed their formula since the late 1900’s, and were angling for “patron saint of ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.’” “I didn’t think you’d already lost your sense of taste, old timer.”

“Hey, candy hearts are the best candy ever created and I will not hear a word against them,” Shiro quipped, leaning an elbow on Keith’s elbow-height shoulder and frowning at him mock-sternly.

“They have the consistency of chalk.”

Shiro lifted a finger dangerously close to Keith’s face, well within biting range, and deadpanned, “Lies and slander.”

“The Geneva Convention determined these to be instruments of torture and the FDA has labeled them unfit for human consumption.”

“See now you’re just being needlessly specific and also mean,” Shiro said, pretending to be hurt, but unable to stop himself from smiling. He ruffled Keith’s hair fondly and caught sight of another cadet he was buddies with, and hollard her name with another “think fast,” pulling another box of hearts from his duffle and flinging it at her.

“How many of those did you buy?” Keith asked, staring at the bag.

“Oh so many. So so many, Keith,” Shiro said with a grin, then jogged off to say hi to his most recent victim. Keith pocketed the candies and stared after him a moment. Shiro had been some kind of idol-hero to Keith, half a year ago, but now that they were friends Keith just found him… painfully dorky. Just the biggest of all goombas. King Nerd the Nerdth of Nerdom. Sir Dorkus Colossus. He was Keith’s favorite person _ever._

That evening, after class, Keith showed up exactly like they’d planned, but it was Adam that answered the door.

“Oh, hey bud.” Adam was not Keith’s _favorite_ person ever, but given the number of friends Keith had, Adam did make the top five. “Study night tonight?”

“Hell yeah,” Keith answered, smirking wider when Adam opened his mouth, but aborted chastising Keith for the swear. Pretty soon Keith would wear him down to the point of giving up entirely, and it was an admittedly petty victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“C’mon in. There’s tea if you want it.”

“You’re still not British.”

“And you’re still not funny,” Adam said, pointedly ruffling Keith’s hair as he passed. Keith set up his astrophysics homework on the coffee table, plopping himself down on the ground because he and Shiro always seemed to manage to take up the entirety of the living room floor when they studied together, and Shiro’s tiny kitchen table was mostly commandeered by Adam. 

Keith got through maybe a fourth of the first question before the door swipped open and Shiro shouted, “Adam think fast!”

Adam startled, but did not actually, like, lift his hands to guard himself. Keith did, and Keith wasn’t even the target.

“No, Adam, you’re supposed to,” Shiro gestured vaguely, deflated, “You gotta, dude, I don’t actually wanna hit you in the face with a box of candy hearts.”

“Why would you buy those?” Adam asked incredulously, “Who likes those?”

“Me!” Shiro half-shouted, exasperated. He let the door close behind him, crossing over to Keith and flinging himself rowdily into Keith’s side, nearly bowling Keith over.

“They’re the la croix of hardened dust.”

Adam snorted and gestured pointedly at Keith. “See? SOMEONE has sense in this house!”

“You’re both being very mean to me, and I would just like to say that that is _not_ allowed.”

“I’m always mean to you,” Keith said, tucking himself up against Shiro’s side and smiling at how he subconsciously draped his arm around Keith’s shoulders.

“Yes but it’s Pisces season, which means you’re breaking the rules and also the law and you have to stop.”

“Shiro, it’s the 14th,” Adam stated. Shiro and Keith squinted at him, Adam squinted back.

“And?”

“Pisces season doesn’t start until the 19th.”

“Nerd,” Keith said.

“He’s a very big nerd,” Shiro said, sotto voce, leaning in and sharing a playful smile with Keith.

“Bold words coming from the man who once spent three hours soliloquising the--”

Shiro chucked a box of candy hearts at him, the flat side of the box hitting him square in the face. “Think fast!”

“Aren’t you supposed to shout that _before_ you throw things!?” Adam asked, affronted, flinging one hand out while he agitatedly adjusted his glasses with the other.

“Well I mean it didn’t really work out the last time,” Shiro muttered, propping his chin on top of Keith’s head.

“Go grade your papers!” Adam huffed amidst Shiro and Keith’s obnoxious tittering. Keith shifted, pulling his textbook up onto his thighs, and leaned his weight into Shiro, who leaned back. Keith’s graphs, grid paper, beat up notebook, collection of pencils, and dual-sided highlighter spread in a slow arc around him, merging with Shiro’s haphazard “filing” system of sorting the papers he graded into separate piles, as well as the papers he had yet to grade, which also got their own piles, for some reason. Study nights with Shiro were easily Keith’s most productive, something deeply satisfying about sharing space with his best friend, curled up against him, in what was easily and objectively the safest place in Keith’s life.

And for all his protests, over the course of the evening Keith made his way through the entire box of candy hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/Concrit always welcome!


	2. Longingly

The first Valentine’s Day, in which they were in love, passed them by unnoticed on an ancient, alien spaceship in an ancient, alien galaxy.

They’d all been up on the viewing deck, a night ago, curled up under blankets as a group, watching the nebulae float by slowly out the window. There were too many particles in the space around them to open a wormhole, and given the flammability of the gases Hunk and Pidge had registered, it was the safer bet to just let inertia power them through the colorful dust clouds. 

There were only two people on the viewing deck, then.

“Keith,” Shiro said into the silence. It was eerie, sometimes, how frictionless this ship really was, how little noise it made. No engine to hum when it was powered by a giant crystal, after all. Just the gentle rush of the vents circulating air. 

“Hey, Shiro,” Keith said, smiling despite the evident circles under his eyes, the tense line of his shoulders that Shiro could see, even from where he was, the way his fingers dug a little too hard into his forearms. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Yeah.” Shiro lifted the edge of the blanket he’d pulled around his shoulders. “Shouldn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Keith said, sitting down. He’d gone through one hell of a growth spurt while Shiro was in space, finally making good on his oaths that he was just a late bloomer and he’d shoot up eventually. He couldn’t tuck into Shiro’s side the way he’d used to. But he could press into him and lean his head on Shiro’s shoulder. And Shiro could slip his arm around his back and give his shoulder a squeeze, leaning his head against the mop of Keith’s uncombed hair and smell his desert scent that clung to him even months out in space. And that might have been even better. 

“Can’t sleep?” Shiro asked, very, very quietly, and still so loud in the silent room.

“Anxious,” Keith admitted, just as quietly. “Not even nightmares. Just. Waking up scared and nauseous.” Shiro’s heart squeezed, thumbing at the fabric of Keith’s black t. He hated that Keith had to endure that. Hated that he was helpless to stop it from happening. “You?”

“My shoulder aches.” And the spot where the prosthetic attached to whatever he had left of an arm. And his right pectoral. And a solid portion of his back. He was diligent about stretching and regular exercise, but it was just _so_ heavy and sometimes he got flareups. 

Keith pulled away, which was easily the last thing Shiro wanted to have happen. Well, maybe not the _last_ last thing, but pretty low down there on the list of things Shiro wanted. Then Shiro found himself finagled so _Keith’s_ arm was around _his_ shoulders, and his slender, clever fingers were digging into the sore, abused muscles there.

“Oh, hey,” Shiro almost said ‘you don’t have to,’ but. This was Keith. Keith didn’t do things he didn’t want to do, not with Shiro. With anyone else, everyone else, yes, but they were past that. Long past that. Shiro let out a long, slow breath, and let his body… sink. He rested against Keith, so bright and stubborn and brilliant and quick, and settled his head against Keith’s.

“You’re good at this,” he murmured, appreciating how the heel of Keith’s palm dug into his back, right off of the shoulder blade.

“Good, because I have no idea what I’m doing or if it’s working.”

Shiro laughed, their skulls jostling against each other. “It’s working wonderfully, you’re doing great.” Shiro had to restrain himself from saying ‘baby,’ because the two of them weren’t like that. Keith was wild and vicious and Shiro’s best friend, but they weren’t together. Part of Shiro was of a firm belief that Keith wouldn’t want some amputee with a broken brain and premature greying, anyway. Part of Shiro felt that the two of them were drawn, inexorably, towards each other, and would continue to do so until the inevitable happened. They’d orbited each other for so long, always drawn back into each other’s gravity, time and time again, it seemed impossible that it wouldn’t happen.

But if it did happen, it would happen in due time. For now, Shiro simply loved Keith, his best friend, the man who shouldered the burdens Shiro could not, and stared out the window at the passing rainbows of space dust, overlaid on a backdrop of stars. 

“Thanks,” Keith said, after a long and comfortable stretch of silence. 

“Mm?”

“It,” Keith paused, gathering his words, but he didn’t get the frustrated, impatient tone he got with others. He knew Shiro would wait. Shiro knew him. “I’m calmer now.”

“Good,” Shiro purred, and maybe he imagined it but Keith may or may not have shivered at that.

“Being around you makes me calmer. I feel safe,” Keith stated, blunt, without trimmings or lace. Shiro lifted his arm, the one that was actually his, and tugged his fingers through a loose lock of Keith’s hair, pulling it over Keith’s shoulder and gently prying apart a stray tangle. 

“You deserve to, Keith,” Shiro murmured, suddenly made aware of just how close their faces were, how he could feel the faint warmth of Keith’s body heat wafting from his cheek to Shiro’s own. “If I could keep you safe always, I would.”

“Hey,” Keith protested mildly, “I’m not the one who goes around getting myself stabbed by space witches and almost eaten by giant rock lizard dogs.”

“Okay, I think that counts as one event, since the giant rock lizard dogs were attacking me on account of the glowing witch stabbing.”

“Whatever makes you feel better,” Keith teased, and Shiro huffed out a chuckle.

“You make me feel better,” Shiro stated, bringing the conversation right back to heartfelt and earnest, not letting Keith run away from it _so_ easily. And he did know that’s what Keith was doing. “I feel calmer around you too. I know you’ve got my back.”

Shiro rolled his shoulder, and grinned. “In this case, literally.” Now it was his turn to lighten the mood, and Keith snorted, dragging his fingernails down and back up the length of Shiro’s back. 

“Always,” Keith swore, gently denying the out. “Always, Shiro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/Concrit always welcome!


	3. Lovingly

The first Valentine’s Day, in which they were partnered, once again passed them by unnoticed. They were all gathered in the Yellow Lion’s hull, taking a break for some very needed morale boosting. Coran had his Monsters and Mana board up and running, and half of them already had their characters rolled and ready to go.

“You could be _literally anything_!” Coran insisted, an unstoppable force meeting the immovable object of Shiro’s subsequent, “And I want to be a paladin again.”

“Wait, if I’m a beast tamer, could I have a hippo for my beast?” Keith interrupted, very fortunately for Coran’s blood pressure.

“What’s a hippo?” Coran asked. 

“They’re--” Hunk started, only to be interrupted by Keith slamming his hands on the table.

“The _coolest_ animal on earth!” he said delightedly, making everyone except Shiro blink twice. “Their jaws can bite 2,000 pound _per square inch!_ They’re really fat, girthy quadrupeds that spend most of their time in water to protect their hairless skin from Earth’s relentless sun, and they’re _crazy_ fast despite how much they weigh, especially in water, also, when they sweat, it _looks_ like they’re sweating blood, but it’s actually just a red-colored oil and they only really do it when they’re out of the water.”

Keith beamed. “Plus, they’re super cute.”

“That sounds horrifying,” Coran said flatly, “Yes, you can beast tame your fat monster.”

“Hell yeah, I’m changing to beast tamer!”

“I could be the berserker then,” Krolia mentioned mildly.

“Wait, if Keith’s not the berserker anymore then I want to be the berserker!” Romelle piped up, Allura’s legs draped across Romelle’s lap and her back leaned up against Hunk.

“Then I’ll be the spy,” Krolia relented with an easy shrug.

“Isn’t that a little on the nose?” Lance asked.

“Shiro’s being a paladin,” Krolia said mildly, prompting a “THANK you, Krolia,” from Shiro.

“You’re a paladin in real--” Coran started, face turning an interesting shade of red alarmingly fast.

“Maybe we should establish backstories now?” Allura cut in, not ready for yet another run-around of Shiro and Coran’s paladin fight. 

“My dwarf’s good, same as last time,” Pidge volunteered. Hunk, Allura, and Lance agreed with their own characters.

“My beast tamer started as some nobody from nowhere, and was almost killed by a murderous band of notorious criminals before having his life saved by a noble paladin,” Keith volunteered, sending a smile Shiro’s way. 

“Did he then swear a life debt to my paladin, despite the fact that he’s saved my paladin’s life more times than anyone can count by now?” Shiro asked, smiling right on back, the arm looped around Keith’s back giving Keith’s shoulder a fond squeeze. 

“You bet your paladin’s cute little ass he did,” Keith said, angling his body in towards Shiro’s, character page set down, forgotten, on the table. “And regardless of what adventures or circumstances happen, he’s never gonna leave his side.”

“Perhaps a romance quietly simmering beneath the surface, each of them thinking the other could never see them that way?” Shiro suggested with a gentle tug on one of Keith’s loose locks of hair, twirling it around his finger. 

“And over the course of the adventure they--”

Keith was interrupted by Pidge horking _very_ convincingly, and continuing to mock-barf after, bent over at the belly, turned to the side, right up until Kosmo shoved his muzzle up into their space, whining anxiously.

“Oh no, no boy, I’m okay,” Pidge soothed, “I’m just making fun of your dumb dads, it’s okay.” Kosmo, unable to understand complicated human speech, weaseled his way up half-into their lap and began slobbering all over Pidge’s face. “Also disgusting!” Pidge complained sharply, attempting to shove the space wolf down.

“I should let him drool all over you,” Keith said, and Shiro chuckled but gave his shoulder another squeeze. Keith rolled his eyes. “C’mere buddy,” he called, and Kosmo warped on over, setting his muzzle up against Keith’s thigh and staring at him with very large puppy-dog eyes for a wolf that was no longer a puppy. Shiro pulled Keith in, pressing his lips to Keith’s temple. Keith’s sentence went unfinished, as Romelle gave her character a backstory, the two leaning into each other warmly. They both knew their adventure ended with them falling in love.


	4. Lustfully

The first Valentine’s Day, in which they were successfully in love, together, and aware of the date, happened a few months after the war ended. They might have missed the holiday, had Hunk not brought his polycule home to share the celebration with his alien lovers, so busy were they with new and strange responsibilities. But their rank gave them a unique ability to take off basically whenever they wanted, so Keith grabbed two sets of keys and hunted down his fiance.

“Think fast!” Shiro heard Keith call, and got his hand up just in time to catch the keyring making a beeline for his face. He examined it, finding the number of the garrison hoverbike he liked best marked into the plastic. He met Keith’s grinning gaze, pulse kicking up with anticipation.

“It’s Pisces season,” Keith remarked, and Shiro laughed.

The first time they’d come to the cliff, Shiro had dived while Keith stared after with open awe and more than just a little fear, his adrenaline high and mouth open. The last time, Keith had been driving and Shiro was unconscious, and Keith had adjusted successfully for the added weight of his hover’s occupants, pulling up in time, just like he had a dozen times before.

This time, the two flew towards the cliff nose to nose, not a race, though occasionally one would playfully rev their engine and pull a foot ahead. This time, they acted in perfect sync, the hovers whirring hollowly as the ground fell out from beneath them, their bodies tipping down towards the desert earth, wind whistling past as twin heartbeats pounded in their ears, and without looking at the other they both pulled up at the same moment, bodies shooting out into the desert with the momentum of their fall. Keith let out a whoop and Shiro felt something _settle_ in his chest, something that hadn’t unwound for a moment since he’d come back to Earth. 

Keith’s old shack was dusty as one might guess. They brushed off a couple surfaces and flipped the couch cushions, chasing sand out the front door, and Shiro surveyed the faded maps, photos, sticky notes hung up along the walls. 

Everything was a little different, and a little the same as it had always been. He turned and smiled at Keith, who was simultaneously a man who had grown and changed so much, and just like he’d always been.

“Hey,” Keith said, sweat still sticking to his bangs from the ride, jacket unzipped and exposing his black tanktop, his absurdly long arm (it was a Galra thing, Shiro understood now, they were proportioned differently) holding out a decade-old water bottle. But the seal was still good.

“Hey,” Shiro answered, taking the bottle. “This a tall drink of water?”

“Nah, can’t make you a cannibal,” Keith joked back, cracking open his own.

“Is it cannibalism if it’s a liquid? Wouldn’t that be vampirism?” Shiro asked before downing half the bottle in one go. 

“You’d make a sexy vampire.”

“Do I make a sexy human?”

“The sexiest,” Keith said with a broad grin, and Shiro briefly imagined he could see pointy teeth. Which was ridiculous, because Keith hadn’t had his fangs out since the clone fight. He smiled and hummed quietly, closing into Keith’s personal space and resting a floating hand on one skinny hip.

“Is that so?” he asked, voice gone down low, and his chest shook with a silent chuckle when he saw Keith’s pupils dilate in real time. Keith ran his hand up Shiro’s metal arm, and although he had no nerves there, he liked to imagine he could feel it, how the sensation would make him shiver.

“Yeah. Irresistible, even,” Keith said, having to swallow audibly, and Shiro chuckled lowly.

“Well, you’ve got me all alone, out in the desert,” Shiro said, “miles from anyone who can barge in on us, and a somewhat-serviceable couch right here.” Keith snorted, and Shiro pressed in close, mouth bent to Keith’s ear. “And you’re pretty hot yourself. You should dress down, Keith; don’t want to overheat.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna,” Keith said, and Shiro got to enjoy how he was already sounding kinda breathy, “Maybe you should make me.”

Shiro snorted and laughed, dropping his head to Keith’s shoulder, his arms encircling his stupidly tiny waist. So strong, for how strappy he was. When Shiro lifted his head he pressed his mouth to the crook of Keith’s jaw, mouthing at it before sucking with a thoughtful hum. “You’re feeling playful, baby?”

“Just a little,” Keith said, pulling back to smile at Shiro, and Shiro’s heart did that stupid flippy thing he used to think only happened in stories. 

Shiro pulled Keith’s jacket off his arms, pressing a kiss against his mouth as he did. When freed, Keith lifted his hands and gripped at Shiro’s shoulders, body arching up into Shiro’s, and when Shiro pulled away from the kiss Keith’s head followed, trailing after.

“What’s the rush, baby?” Shiro teased, tugging on Keith’s tank top a little harder. “You haven’t even bought me flowers or chocolate.” He undid Keith’s pants and pushed them down, a little rougher. “And on Valentine’s Day, for shame, Keith, for shame.”

Keith opened his mouth, probably to counter with something snarky and bratty like “shut up and fuck me” or somesuch, but Shiro went ahead and scooped him up before he could. He tossed Keith’s bare ass down on the more-or-less dusted couch and followed after, arms bracketing him.

“I ever tell you how beautiful you are?” Shiro asked idly, his own pants needing removed sometime soonish.

Keith colored wonderfully, he always did. Red on his ears and neck and across his sharp cheekbones, and Shiro chuckled and kissed his nose.

“Frequently, yeah,” Keith mumbled, shifting a little on the old couch.

“Good, because you are.” Shiro caressed Keith’s face, tangling his fingers in his gorgeous hair. “Breathtaking, my beautiful Keith.”

“Shiro.” Keith’s legs came up, wanting, a knee pressed into Shiro’s crotch.

“My precious boy,” Shiro continued, pressing a kiss to his jaw, then his neck, then his clavicle, “My gorgeous Keith, my starlight and my savior and my desert breeze.”

“Shiro!” Higher, more like a whine.

Shiro nosed against the underside of Keith’s jaw, which he always liked, always made his breath hitch and body curl up into him. “My tall drink of water.”

“Oh my god!” Keith slapped at Shiro’s flesh arm with a barked laugh, moving away from Shiro’s face but he had his arm in the way and dragged Keith back into a tight hug. 

“Speaking,” Shiro joked, and Keith stuck his tongue out at him. Shiro bent and stuck his own tongue inside Keith’s mouth, lifting his hands to pry his own jacket off. It was easier with a floating arm, all things considered. Shiro pulled away to pull his undershirt off, and Keith was ever so helpful with his belt while he did.

“Would you,” Keith started, averting his eyes as Shiro shucked his pants, “put your jacket back on?” Keith finished quietly. Shiro tossed his jacket on easily, leaving it open in the front, the only piece of clothing between them.

“Like this?” he asked, settling himself between Keith’s legs on the couch.

“Yeah,” Keith breathed, licking his lips. “Yeah, you look--good.”

Shiro made a gentle fist in Keith’s hair and pulled sweetly. “You look better,” Shiro purred.

“You look best.” 

Shiro snorted and kissed Keith’s cheek. “Competitive,” he scolded gently, “Mouthy,” he added with a kiss to his lips. 

“Shut me up?” Keith suggested, rolling his hips up.

“And why would I do that?” Shiro asked mildly, metal hand sliding a finger up against Keith’s asshole, prodding it, but not going in. “I love listening to what you have to say.”

“Shiro,” Keith murmured, once again turning that delicious shade of red.

“I love hearing you, baby,” Shiro murmured against his ear, breath hot, flesh hand rubbing fondly at his chest, before giving a nipple a tweak. “I love all the sounds you make, and I love hearing you make them for me.”

“Shiro, please,” Keith gasped, pushing against Shiro’s hand, wiggling inside his hold, but Shiro kept him pinned.

“It’s dry out here, baby,” he said.

“I have lube in my left pocket,” Keith said, pointing at his discarded jacket on the floor. Another perk of floaty arms: long reach.

“Well then,” Shiro said, coating one metal finger, “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Keith “hated” prep, largely because Shiro liked to tease him with it. _Yes,_ it was a necessary part of any endeavors involving penetration, but no, Shiro didn’t need to drag it out as long as he always did. But it was such fun, watching Keith wiggle and squirm, listening to him gasp and whine and bitch about how long Shiro was taking. Shiro also liked the chance to touch, to run his hand up over Keith’s belly, feeling it flex beneath his palm, pinch and twist at his nipples, bring Keith’s hand to his lips and kiss his knuckles one by one, caress his thigh, drag fingers through the tangles of his hair. He liked the chance to kiss his lips, too, sweet and slow like he had all the time in the world.

Like they were in the middle of absolutely nowhere and had nowhere to be.

“Shiro!” Keith whined for the umpteenth time, and Shiro hummed in answer patiently. “C’mon, I’m ready, I was ready _ages_ ago, fuck me already!”

“Patience baby,” Shiro purred, comforting, soft, and evil. “Focus.”

Keith made a wordless, frustrated sound and started squirming, sweat across his lithe, pale chest and agitation mounting. The thing about playing with denial was that it required a great deal of attention to detail, focus, and most importantly of all, timing. Shiro knew Keith’s ticks and tells, knew them well before he ever loved him, but using them for sexy reasons gave Shiro a curl of satisfaction in his gut. He could bring Keith right to the edge, right to that line where pleasure dropped off sharply, and he pulled his fingers out right before Keith went over. 

“Okay baby,” Shiro said, sweetly indulgent and deeply satisfied, “I’ll fuck you like you want it.”

“Finally!” Keith shouted, body arching upwards, needing, wanting. 

Shiro chuckled and leaned in close, cock pressed against Keith’s hole but not pushing in _just_ yet. He nosed his way in so his mouth brushed against the shell of Keith’s ear when he murmured, “You deserve it, baby.”

And _then_ he fucked into him, going all the way to the base in a single, fluid motion, and Keith arched with a high cry.

“You sound so beautiful,” Shiro praised, hips moving with his own eagerness, the force of his own need and want. “When you scream for me like that, all these pretty noises you’re making for me now,” Shiro threaded the fingers of his metal hand with Keith’s own, pressed up against the dusty old couch cushion, “You’re so gorgeous, Keith, you sound so good for me.”

“Shiro, Shiro!” Keith called in that breathless, desperate way he had. Shiro had fantasized, once or twice, before they’d both confessed, how Keith’s voice would sound calling his name as he _wrecked_ him. He was very pleased to know, now, that the real thing was better than anything he’d imagined. 

“I love you so much,” Shiro groaned, plenty breathless himself, arm wrapped tightly behind Keith’s back, holding him close. Their other hands remained pressed firmly against the couch, locked together, and Keith’s hand made a fist in Shiro’s hair. It felt fucking good.

“I love you,” Keith gasped, “Shiro!”

“Keith,” Shiro answered, his cock twitching in warning, enveloped in the slick heat of Keith’s body. Sometimes, Shiro felt there was nothing else he wanted to do in this life than fuck Keith just like this, find a way to break his own biology and just screw his lover into infinity. No work, no stars, just Keith and his warmth and the way he called his name.

“Come inside me!” Keith begged, because just as much as Shiro knew Keith’s tells, Keith knew Shiro’s, too.

Shiro groaned, and did, pressing into the crook of Keith’s neck and closing his eyes tight. He reached between them and jerked Keith off, only to have him coming as well a short two strokes later.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Shiro praised, more air than words, breathing hard and slowly, slowly winding down. He pulled out, neither caring about ruining any couch cushions here, and settled himself down, squished up against Keith. One wrong move and he _would_ fall off the couch.

“Hey,” Keith said after a long moment in which they both oriented themselves, tugging on Shiro’s lapel.

“Hey,” Shiro said, aware that he was grinning like a doofus. Keith made him feel fluffy and warmhearted, it was impossible not to.

“Grab my jacket for me?”

Shiro’s floating arm really was just so incredibly useful. He floated the jacket over and dropped it right on Keith’s face, earning him a snort.

“Rude.”

“You know I love being mean to you, baby,” Shiro said, feeling tired and playful and soft.

“Rude!” Keith asserted, louder, but with a laugh. “And here I was trying to tell you that I _did_ get you candies, on Valentine’s Day, you gigantic asshole.”

“Oh?” Shiro asked, perking up just a little.

“Well now I don’t know if I should give them to you,” Keith said, as he was actively fishing out the candies to give to him. He tapped the edge of the small box to Shiro’s nose, and Shiro lit up.

“You got me candy hearts?”

“They still your favorite?” Keith asked smugly.

“Mm, you’re sweeter,” Shiro said with a quick kiss to Keith’s lips, which turned into a somewhat longer kiss. “But yes, they are. I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Like I would forget that you have terrible taste,” Keith teased, wiggling so he was snuggled in closer, pressed up against Shiro’s chest, his head tucked against his shoulder.

“I have the best taste. And the best boyfriend.” Shiro kissed him on top of his hair.

“Mm,” Keith hummed, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Love you, Keith.”

“Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/Concrit always welcome!


End file.
